


Diplomacy

by DictionaryWrites



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Political Alliances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the kink meme - Thranduil always pulls away from the kiss just soon enough to leave Kíli wanting more. It’s a ploy to keep Kíli coming back to him. Kíli/Thranduil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diplomacy

Kíli, Thranduil had soon discovered, adored to be kissed. The Dwarf was in his Kingdom for a few months with a small party, as Elves were under the Lonely Mountain as similar gifts - a matter of diplomacy, but then, Thranduil had never wished to play fair. It had struck his fancy, the idea of seducing the young Dwarf while he and his brother were parted. 

And it had been easier than he had imagined, for the first time Thranduil had kissed him, cupping that stubbled cheek and pressing his sweet lips to Kíli’s, the Dwarf had let out a mewl, melting against Thranduil. 

It had been terribly  _sweet_ , certainly, but it had also made Thranduil come to realize just how easy it would be to bring the Dwarf to his side, to his bed - they were already in the midst of diplomatic relationships, after all, and what was a better sign of diplomacy than a new marriage?

Thranduil kissed Kíli whenever they were alone, but after a few days, he had formulated a clever little plan.

Thranduil kissed him in the hall and then he drew back, leaving Kíli attempting to stand on his very tip-toes to follow the kiss. The Elvenking was pleased with himself, because all he had to do was convince Kíli to always come back to him.

And my, how it worked.

He pinned Kíli to the wall in the corridor, and Kíli had gone limp, whimpering as he arched his back and pressed eagerly, desperately, into the kiss Thranduil had initiated - the sound of loss he made when Thranduil pulled away was positively a whine, and while Kíli had run to catch up with his long strides, they were already in front of others again, so Kíli could not take what he wished.

What Thranduil had not expected was how affectionate Kíli was. In his bed chambers one morning, when Kíli had slipped into the warmth of Thranduil’s bed to press his smaller body against Thranduil’s and  _purr_  (did Dwarves purr?), but when Thranduil had sat up, intent on getting out of bed, Kíli’s protest had not been verbal.

He sat up and reached out, very gently beginning to comb through Thranduil’s silken locks with careful fingers, and the Elvenking relaxed, leaning back into the touch. He would allow this, for it felt pleasant enough, and Kíli seemed delighted to have been permitted touch the Elf’s hair in such a fashion.

That Thranduil had allowed Kíli in his bed at all was indicative, in some ways, of mutual fondness, for Thranduil did so enjoy Kíli. He was bright, radiant of smile, and pretty for a Dwarf, but moreover, he adored  _Thranduil_ , and that was pleasing in itself.

Thranduil kissed Kíli in bed that morning, pinning the Dwarf to the bed with his own weight, and how Kíli had  _whimpered_ , pressing eagerly up for more, running his hands over Thranduil’s face and sides and chest. “Please, may I-” And Kíli’s hand had moved lower, but Thranduil had hushed him, catching his hand by the wrist in a strong grip. 

"No, Kíli, we cannot do that." Thranduil purred sweetly against the Dwarf’s lips, and Kíli, to his surprise, had relented, letting out a soft sound. 

Kíli had fallen asleep in Thranduil’s bed whilst the Elvenking had dressed, but Thranduil did not even wake him - he wrapped the Dwarf in sheets and lifted him, finding him surprisingly light for his species, and placed him in his own bed before leaving him alone.

Thranduil had kissed Kíli that evening, and Kíli had whispered, “May I come to bed with you?”

"Now, Kíli, we  _cannot_ -“

"To sleep." Kíli added desperately, his pretty eyes wide and his lovely lips parted. "You’re so terribly warm, and I so love to be beside you."

"Very well." Thranduil had said, and outwardly, he sounded neutral. Inwardly, triumph swelled in his heart. Kíli certainly did press close to him once they were in bed together, his hands wrapped tightly around the Elf’s hips and his young face pressed tightly to Thranduil’s collar bone.

It tickled, somewhat, for the sake of his beard, but Thranduil found he didn’t mind that overmuch when his own hands could play with Kíli’s surprisingly soft, unbraided hair. Kíli did not snore, but occasionally he would mumble soft, indecipherable words against Thranduil’s neck, and the Elvenking slept peacefully in spite - or perhaps, because of - the quiet mutterings.

It was only a day later that Kíli was due to return home. Thranduil had been incremental in his clever seduction, and while he was certain Legolas suspected, the young Elf had made no mention of it - Thranduil, privately, considered that Legolas no doubt did not understand, but undoubtedly preferred the idea of his father taking a politically apt Dwarven husband than his own self.

Thranduil considered his son precious above all else: he would never force such a thing upon him. Now, Legolas stood beside Thranduil, giving a goodbye along with his father.

Kíli had left his place before Thranduil’s throne, towards the exit, but then he had frozen.  _Yes_ , Thranduil had thought.  _Come back to me, sweet young Dwarf, and let me possess one of the prettiest treasures of Erebor_.

—-

Kíli deliberated. He did not turn to look at Thranduil, for he wished to make his decision now, with no swaying by the Elvenking’s surprisingly pretty features. He bit at his own lip, for the time being ignoring the perplexed looks his party were sending him from the door.

He had been terribly flattered when Thranduil had kissed him the first time, and it had felt  _good_ , felt even better to be close to the Elvenking and pressed to him in bed, and though he missed his brother, his place was not in Erebor - he was the spare heir, after all, and it would be better that he marry anyway…

His teeth pressed down on the pink flesh of his lower lip, because Thranduil could be so  _useful_  - not that Kíli didn’t like him anyway! Of course he did! It was merely that- well, such a coupling would be  _ever_  so convenient, diplomatically, and Kíli had disappointed his uncle so many times.

In this, how could he disappoint? Of course, Thorin disliked Thranduil, and disliked Elves, but surely he would be proud of Kíli’s ability to promote good relations?

Kíli turned, and he looked back to Thranduil.

A silver eyebrow arched, and the Elvenking regarded him expectantly. “May I stay?” Kíli whispered the words, and while he had conditions, he would speak of them later, when they were in private. Thranduil’s son - Legolas - had a twitch in his marble-coloured jaw, but he made no verbal complaint.

"Of course." Thranduil said lightly, ever the gracious host. "For so long as you like."

"Forever?" Kíli asked, and he ignored the shocked stares of the Dwarven party at his back. Thranduil smiled, thin-lipped and all teeth, and something about the expression set a delightful shiver down Kíli’s spine. 

"Forever." Thranduil intoned, voice low and melodic, and when Kíli rushed forwards, Thranduil did not leave him unsatisfied: Kíli’s decision was rewarded with a long kiss the Elvenking did not cut short. Why should he, after all?

Kíli had already come back to him, and the Dwarf now stood between Thranduil’s knees, melting against the other’s mouth. 

"I have conditions." Kíli whispered against Thranduil’s lips, and for the first time, he saw the Elvenking laugh. His head dropped back, his slender neck taut and drawn tight, and he clutched at his own heart. His laughter was a music in itself, low but sweet, like notes on a cello.

"Of course you do." Thranduil returned, plainly amused as he met Kíli’s eyes. "We shall draw up a contract."

"Yes." Kíli said, somewhat relieved that Thranduil had agreed so easily, and Legolas cleared his throat. Kíli sent Legolas a bright beam, his teeth white, his smile sweet, and the young Elf seemed taken aback, blinking at him with wide eyes before glancing to his father for help.

Thranduil subtly inclined his head, and Legolas smiled back, making no comment. Kíli seemed delighted, even as the Dwarven party grumbled before moving back into the throne room. Thranduil leaned close, and in a tone barely more than a breath, not loud enough for the Dwarves or even Legolas to hear, he whispered, “As soon as I bed you tonight, I will tear you apart.”

It was a promise more than it was a threat, and Kíli let out a soft, pleased sigh.

"Yes." He said in a normal tone, leaving the Dwarves behind him curious as to what Thranduil had said, though Legolas seemed relieved for not having heard the same. "It is mutual." Despite the way his knees were quivering, Kíli managed a diplomatic tone, although his grin was ear-to-ear and a pinkness had come to his cheeks. 

Thranduil raised both eyebrows, lips quirking - this Dwarf was to be a handful, to be certain. How full of surprises he was. 

"Very well." Thranduil said lightly, and he turned to address the party - the sooner they were gotten rid of, the better. 

Kíli did not listen when Thranduil spoke, considering the contract, considering his brother and his uncle, considering specifics and weights and such things. But then Thranduil distracted him with a new kiss, and his every thought was dashed upon the rocks.

Dimly, Kíli wondered why all diplomatic relationships couldn’t be so pleasant, but then Thranduil parted his lips slightly, and that thought was lost with the rest of them. 


End file.
